


Goblin Waltz no.2

by LadyStardust



Series: Apartment-verse [8]
Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, F/M, Fluff, Sappy, Slow Dancing, cliches of fanfiction, doot doot something not there before, fluffy nonsense, forced to dance together, quid pro quo Sarah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 16:31:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14814905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyStardust/pseuds/LadyStardust
Summary: In which Jareth calls in the favour, and Sarah puts on her silver shoes to dance to his tune.   Careful, this one is dripping with sap.





	Goblin Waltz no.2

“Well first of all, I don’t think this is going to work,” Sarah said, crossing her arms over her chest.  She was wearing her old college hoodie and a pair of ripped jeans standing in, arguably, the fanciest room she’d ever been in.  And she’d been to Versailles. 

“I should like to at least try precious,” Jareth said extending his hand towards her.  “For old times sake you see.”

“I might remind you that if you want me to help you, maybe try not reminding me of previous instances of you being a jerk and calling me by nicknames I hate,” Sarah said with a sigh, reluctantly giving him her hand.  

He pulled her in close and placed a guiding hand on the small of her back. “Old habits darling, sorry.” Jareth began to lead her in dance and Sarah immediately stumbled.  Thankfully he was able to anticipate this, and held tightly to keep her from falling over entirely.

“You are very old,” she teased back, regaining her footing.  “So old I should really be getting you signed up for seniors discounts.  I wonder if the local long term care facility would take you in.”

“I don’t know how you could possibly be counting your steps and snarking at me at the same time,” Jareth said, absently.  “Concentrate Sarah.”

“I told you I have two left feet!” She reminded him as she proceeded to step all over his.  She hoped his boots were steel toed. 

Jareth had called in his favour.  When she’d made him pretend to be her date for new year’s she’d promised him one no-questions-asked favour of a similar nature.  Nothing morally questionable and she’d consent to it. 

She just didn’t think that it would involve  _ dancing _ .

“You’re much more graceful when you’re not so inside your own head,” he admonished. 

“Yeah well, you wanted waltzing, this is my waltzing.  Unless you’re fine with me busting out the moonwalk. I am  _ excellent  _ at the moonwalk.”

“What is the - nevermind, do not tell me.  I feel certain I don’t want to know,” Jareth replied thinking better of his request.  

“Maybe I’ll just moonwalk my way out of that whole ball,” Sarah teased brightening.  There were few things she enjoyed more than poking fun at Jareth.

“You’re going to trip over your fancy dress is what you’re going to do,” he said ignoring her.  

“How true,” she said sourly.  “Do any of your little parties here have things other than dancing?  Like say, a really intense Jenga competition? Maybe I could just out drink the rest of Faerie instead.  How do they feel about beer pong?”

“You’ll have your work cut out for you there,” he said, changing directions.  “Most of them have been well into their cups since the 16th century. Not sure they’ve been sober since the reformation.”

“A policy I could get behind,” she said with a grumble as she faltered over her feet.

“You don’t have to dance with anyone but me,” he reminded her.  “You’re just here as my date.”

“Is that, you don’t have to, or please don’t dance with anyone else I can’t deal with several angry foreign dignitaries and their busted feet?”

“It is please do not dance with anyone else as I  _ do _ hate sharing,” he said with a grin. “Your charms are enough to fell several of the men and women attending and I’m not sure I could handle such competition.”

He’d left her a message that morning to meet him in his palace ballroom after she got off work.  They couldn’t text each other, because of Jareth’s complete inability to touch an electronic without messing with the space time continuum, but they had their own way of sending messages.  Sarah would write messages on mirrors, and he would send her his written reply. It was weird, but she kinda liked opening her hand mirror to his rants about the Winterlands, the occasional sketch of a cat, or even the xoxos.  

So although she’d really prefer not to dance at all at this wackadoodle ball he was attending, a promise was a promise. There were several high ranking Faerie men and women who apparently had designs on the Goblin Throne.  An unmarried monarch was cause for some competition amongst the non-land holding gentry and Jareth wanted to avoid the matter entirely. Sarah was sure this was true, but she was also sure that Jareth just wanted a chance to show her off at this year’s demented faerie prom. She’d suggested the Enchantment Under the Ground dance as theme but Jareth hadn’t understood the reference.  She’d have to remember to show him Back to the Future as it was frankly a crime he couldn’t appreciate her pitch perfect Doc Brown impression. 

So yeah, of course she knew why he called in the favour, but privately she also knew she would have agreed to attend as his guest regardless.  That small part of her that was still the girl in the park playing dress up was a lot less buried than she would lead him to believe. 

Also she never got to see anywhere else in Faerie beyond the Labyrinth.  Jareth had told her she’d barely scratched the surface of his realm but Sarah was curious about the worlds beyond the Goblin Kingdom.  The Undersea, the Winter Lands, the Sky Worlds - all places he’d name dropped in the past and Sarah wanted desperately to see them. 

This affair would take place in Great Forest.  Sarah had asked which great forest and was told that all magical forests were the Great Forest.  Anyone who got lost in the woods, who wandered off the path, every red riding hood staring down her big bad wolf, every story held between the trees - it all belonged to them.  Sarah looked so taken aback by the reach of their lands that Jareth had postured a bit about the Goblin Kingdom having just as far of a reach but without the “overdone” nature of the Forest lands.  Apparently the forest in the Labyrinth also belonged to them, but they gifted it out to Jareth for his use on runners and his woods-inclined population. In exchange, he designed some tunnels to run underneath the main castle and helped manage their portals.  

Such was the tradition for the height of summer, the party would be held in the Castle Atop the Trees.  The way Jareth described it, Sarah was picturing the most elaborate and laws of physics flaunting tree house in the world.  At this point Jareth made sure to remind her that his castle was sentient and his magic much more impressive than ‘that fop, Orreno’.  

Yeah, she was a tiny bit excited.  

Except for the part where there’d be dancing.  That part could go to bog.

“My charm is mostly snarky comments and bad decisions, but fine, as long as that goes both ways. Not super interested in watching you seduce Countess whatsherface,” Sarah said, only half teasing.

“I’m sure the entirely fictional countess will be very disappointed, we don’t even  _ have _ countesses here,” he muttered.  “Look at me not your feet Sarah.”

Jareth’s ballroom, much to her surprise, wasn’t the same dream bubble she was expecting.  It was several times larger to begin with, and instead of silver and peach tones, the room was floor to ceiling stone, with gold filigree paintings carefully drawn on every surface.  The gold designs moved gracefully through the room, animated by magic, and showed various beautiful scenes from the Goblin Kingdom. The room was lit by the large double doors, opened to various private balconies, positioned perfectly to let in the most sunlight possible.  Along with more suspended crystals than Sarah could count. Unlike Jareth’s usual silvery opaque ones, these were transparent gold baubles that seemed lit up from the inside, as if each had a candle hidden within. The effect was quite breathtaking, but the moving designs were distracting to Sarah as she tried to focus on her steps.

“I don’t understand how this can be so hard,” Sarah muttered as Jareth narrowly avoided wincing as she took a particularly hard step on his foot.  “I managed alright in the first ballroom.”

“That one I’m afraid is ‘on me’ as you say,” Jareth said regretfully.  “It would have been a poor spell if you immediately stumbled from my arms.  So I added a few enhancements to keep you from thinking too hard, thereby letting your natural grace shine through.”

“Natural grace right,” Sarah said with a snort as she tripped again.  “I’m a regular ballerina over here.”

“It’s not as though I’m asking you to transverse the bog without a bridge, oh wait,” he said with a toothy grin, “you already managed that so really this should be a piece of cake.”

“I will hurt you,” Sarah muttered.  “I will moonwalk over your dead body while humming Billie Jean and then who will look stupid.”

“I just cannot imagine the moonwalk looking anything other than ridiculous so still you I imagine,” he said with some annoyance.  “This is not at all what I envisioned when I invited you to this soirée you know.”

“Aw, I’m sorry Jareth, did I ruin all your nice neat plans to swirl me around with all the romance and grandeur of the Underground by being a useless dancer?  What a pity,” she mocked. 

“Always have a plan B darling,” he said, giving his wrist a twist.  One of his usual crystals appeared there. “Do you want it?” 

“No,” she said crossing her arms.  “In fact, I don’t even want to know what’s in it.”

“Too bad,” he said, throwing the crystal to the ground.  The room exploded in a burst of white light and Sarah was temporarily blinded.  

When her eyes finally stopped seeing spots and the room adjusted back to it’s regularly scheduled lighting, Sarah realized what he’d done.

“Oh hell,” she said, looking down at her now extremely fancy outfit.  The dress was definitely Jareth’s version of an update to her pretty princess dress she’d worn the last time they’d danced together.  But it was made of nothing Sarah had ever even seen before. It looked like starlight and felt like feathers. It fit her so well that Sarah had to touch it to make sure it was really there at all.  It floated gracefully around her and her skirts lifted slightly at the hem as if she was walking on her own cloud. It fell off her shoulders and the full skirt shone like the brightest moon when she moved.  The bodice was decorated with bits of broken crystals and reflective glass and when she looked behind her, she saw the outline of every constellation she could name (and a number she couldn’t), on her train.  Her hair had been washed (...somehow), and fell in loose curls down her back. It also appeared several inches longer than it was in reality. Thankfully, he must have decided she had enough to be worrying about as he skipped the heels and instead gave her a pair of the most comfortable flats she’d ever worn.  They too carried the design of the stars and when she took a careful step forward, she realized that the stars moved in time with her. 

The rest of the ballroom, already beautiful in its splendour, had it kicked up to eleven as all the light but a handful of the golden crystals dimmed, and the sun began to set around them.  Sarah realized that in the semi-darkness, the gold filigree designs turned into stars themselves, as they danced across the ceiling, which had become a window into the darkening sky. A false moon hung inside the ballroom as well and, though Sarah knew it was only an illusion, it looked so big and beautiful that it didn’t matter.  

“I thought a little atmosphere might help,” he said with a shrug.  He’d put on his Goblin King finery, but made sure his outfit complimented hers.  The silver streaks running through his hair made her smile, at least he was consistently weird.  

Music filled the room, and was as loud and clear as if Sarah had the band right above her.  Actually, she thought looking up, it  _ was _ coming from somewhere.  

“Is that my iPod,” she said in utter shock as she noticed her ipod floating along above her head beside the crystals. 

“Well I said it was plan B,” he grumbled.  “I thought you liked this song.”

“I do but damn, you sure know how to blast the speakers.  If it breaks after this much magical interference I’m charging you the cost of a new one,” she replied. 

“Invoice me,” he said, holding out his hand for her to take in dance.  She reluctantly took it and he pulled her into a spin. 

To Sarah’s great annoyance, it was either the shoes, the music, or something, but Jareth’s plan B hadn’t been the worst idea.  Her dancing greatly improved. Her skirt hid a multitude of sins she was undoubtedly committing with her feet, but Jareth guided her seamlessly and easily.  She stopped trying so hard to get her steps right and just let him lead. She knew she was playing right into his hand by letting the magic of the moment get to her, but the man knew how to set a mood.

“This is some Beauty and the Beast nonsense is what this is,” she said between steps.  “I’m half expecting the goblins to run out hurling food at me telling me to be their guest.”

“As if I would ever give the goblins unrestricted access to food,” he scoffed.  

“Don’t you remember the old warnings?” She teased.  “We must not look at goblin men, we must not eat their fruit…damn I can never remember the last line.”

“Who knows upon what soils they fed,” and at this, he paused in their dancing.  He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her in close, letting his hands glide along the line of her body.  “Their hungry thirsty roots.” He finished, gently tugging on her bottom lip. 

“I was thinking more that the goblins have their own market do they not?” she huffed.  

“Yes,” he said, slackening his grip. “But they’re not going to waste their food, those are their wares.  No, they much prefer nicking the food from my kitchens and then passing it off as fresh from the Goblin Market.”

“Is it not?”

Jareth led them in a step change and Sarah caught one of the filigree drawings waving at her from the corner of her eye.  “No the feast of the goblin market is a very…particular kind of food. You’d know better than anyone.”

“I would?” She asked in surprise.

He leaned in close to whisper in her ear.  “The girl who ate the peach and forgot everything.”  

“Oh yes,” she agreed.  “That.”

“Yes, that.” He replied, changing the direction of their dance again and Sarah nearly tore her very fancy dress trying to keep up.  “The only person who found my dancing so abominable she shook off 700 years worth of powerful magic and smashed my favourite guest ballroom by flipping a table out the door.”

“Well your dancing was just that bad,” she said seriously.  “Also it was a chair not a table thank you very much.”

“I’ll be sure to correct the records, though I’m mostly curious how you managed to get through all your schooling without taking the most basic of ballroom classes.”

“Because it’s not 1860?”  Sarah said, eyebrow raised skeptically.  “Seriously Jareth when was the last time you were in a human classroom?  Art and music are barely hanging on by a thread as it is, nobody’s gonna waste tax dollars on teaching kids how to foxtrot.”

“Well that’s why your skills fall short,” he said, clicking his tongue.  “Most of Faerie takes dance for about fifty years.”

“Fifty years of dance?!  Damn Jareth!” Sarah exclaimed loudly.  “I seriously forget how long you guys live until you drop something like that on me.  Even our most famous dancers don’t train for that long. Hell, they’re usually retired long before age 50.  Seriously, how much schooling do you even do down here?”

“Yes it is strange, fifty years doesn’t seem terribly long to me.  But then again, we do make rather a production out of dancing. It’s seen as a necessary social skill.  I imagine not knowing how to dance down here probably has an aboveground equivalent. Where if someone was not practiced at a particular skill, they’d find themselves socially excluded.”

“I suppose,” she said, narrowly avoiding a spill. Her dress spun as she twirled, and the silver of her dress looked beautiful when swept across the golden floor.  “Tell me something about you I don’t know.” 

“Something you don’t know?”

“Yeah, like - so you took dance for fifty years.  Who was your favourite teacher? Or I dunno, what’s your favourite song?  Or ice cream flavour - do you even have a favourite ice cream flavour? Who was your first kiss?  I’d ask you what you wanted to be when you grew up but I feel the answer is ‘king’.” 

“So curious love,” he said not breaking step.  “Should we play our favorite game then?”

“What one is that?” 

“The one where I tell you anything you like in exchange for you answering the same questions,” he said pulling her in closer.  “Choose your right words the goblins said.”

“Or we’ll be stuck twirling forever and ever,” she sing-songed.  “A fate my feet probably couldn’t bear. As if I ever turn down a deal with you.”

“Yes, you don’t need to tell me that you don’t back down from a challenge, this I know.”

“You first, I asked first.”

“Alright,” he drawled.  “Let’s see, my favourite tutor was probably Professor Edrend.  They were my Sky Lands’ languages professor.”

“Were they from the Sky Lands?” Sarah asked.  

Jareth nodded.  “Yes, they were a cross between a water nymph and a slyph.  How their parents even met is a complete mystery.”

“A bird may love a fish signore, but where will they live,” she quoted.  

“That’s not Shakespeare,” he said, brow wrinkling in confusion.

“No, Barrymore,”  she smiled. “My favourite teacher though was Ms. Spence, who taught freshman English.  We read Romeo and Juliet and while Kevin R. was struggling through reading aloud Mercutio’s soliloquy, she would let me quietly read whatever novel I was currently tearing through.  She pushed me ahead to the ‘enhanced’ classes and always wanted to hear what I had to say. I still think about her sometimes. About them all, all the people who silently and slowly changed me.  My grandmother sewing my costumes and telling me stories, Ms. Spence for handing me my first Bronte and telling me that my words mattered. My mom, for giving me that fateful red book in the first place.  Then my dad for believing his sad and angry teenager was a good babysitter. What I’m saying Jareth is - you have a lot of thank you cards to write.”

“I’ll bring out the good stationary then.” He teased.  “I didn’t realize you believed so much in fate.”

She shrugged.  “I don’t really believe it per say, I more just feel that everyone changes us in some way, whether we know it or not.  Some of those changes and choices helped lead me to trod all over your feet in this very fancy dress.”

“So you think we’re fated then?” He said careful to keep his tone light.  But Sarah heard what he was asking. 

“I think that no matter what happens, I’m happy I’m dancing with you.  Which honestly is never a sentence I thought I’d say. But that was an extra question, so you owe me two.”

“My favourite colour is purple and I enjoy strawberry ice cream,” he hand waved.   “Do you believe in destiny?”

“I’d rather tell you my favourite ice cream is cookie dough,” she said, rolling her eyes.  “I don’t know enough to say yes or no whether I believe in destiny. I’m not sure how that’s different than fate really.  If you ask me whether I believe in vampires I’ll say no - but if one shows up at my door tomorrow I’m not going to tell they they’re not real. I’m kind of at a disadvantage here since you’re reading from a different rule book than I am.  I’m way more interested to hear whether you believe in fate.”

“There are oracles,” he said with that bemused expression on his face he reserved just for her.  “But I avoid them mostly. They are…complicated.”

“I’m not asking you what an oracle is because that’d count as another question, so instead I’m going to assume they give a kind of prophecy.”

“Correct,” he said simply.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she pointed out.

He quirked a smile at her, and did a bit of a complicated two step that caused her to falter slightly.  “Let’s just say I’m not _ quite _ as ready to stare down something both greater and stronger than I am.  Now didn’t you also want to know about my first kiss?”

“Wow you must really not want to talk about oracles because that is the biggest fuck off I’ve ever heard, but fine I’m taking the bait.  Tell me who got there first,” she said with a raised brow. They would be coming back to that later.

“I was 11 and her name was Liah. She was the daughter of my mother’s favourite seamstress.”

“That’s adorable,” she smiled.  “I’m just picturing your eyes meeting over the spinning wheel.  Did you guys stay in touch?”

“We’re still quite friendly, she’s made a number of my favourite pieces.  You two would get along well I think. You both enjoy questioning my decisions so much.”

“You got a type Jareth,” Sarah shrugged.  “Did she make what I’m wearing?”

“No that’s one of mine,” he said, giving her another twirl.  “But you don’t have to wear it if you don’t like it. I can ask Liah to make something more to your taste.”

“Obviously I love it,” she laughed, giving her skirt another swish for good measure.  “But I thought you said you’d never move the stars.”

“I said I’d move the stars for no one, tell me Sarah, when have you ever been no one?  Besides, I’m not moving anything, you are,” he said, gesturing to her feet. 

“But you put them there,” she reminded him. 

“And a match is just a stick until it meets a spark,”  He said, giving her another twirl.

“Can’t start a fire without a spark, even if we’re just dancing in the dark,” she sung lightly.  

“What was that?” he said, amused. 

“A freebie, my favorite song.”

He led her around the room another time before something occurred to her.  

“So where are your stars then?” she asked considering his outfit.  It wasn’t like it was too out there for him - the man wore more eyeshadow on a daily basis than she’d ever touched.

“I don’t have stars,” he said quietly.  “I can only offer them.”

She didn’t really have a quick response to that.  Instead she let him dance with her because even outside of her favour, she wanted to.  She didn’t like dancing, but she liked him.

“You can’t say stuff like that without me wanting to do something stupid,” she said, trying to avoid looking at him.  Because whenever he said stuff like that, the kind of things that made her heart clench and her stomach drop, it was so hard, so  _ impossibly hard _ to not grab him by his sparkly lapels and...well, a lot of things.  

“That is the idea,” he murmured pulling her closer.  “Please tell me all the stupid things you’d like to do.  I want to write them down and reference them later when you’re willing to happily agree to all of them.”

“Mmm is that so,” she said.  She was tired of always being the one thrown off balance by Jareth and his ability to weaponize his sexuality against her.  He was good at it too and the jerk knew it. But Sarah had a few tricks of her own up her sleeve and she’d never been great at risk evaluation.  

“Well I’d start by pushing you down into your throne.  I’d bind your hands so you couldn’t touch me…well not with your hands at least,” she said coyly. 

“…what?”  Jareth said, his previous seductive and pretentious demeanour vanishing.  

“Then I’d slowly remove this dress, letting it fall from my shoulders and pool at my feet.  Until I was standing in front of you wearing just this necklace, and these lovely shoes you’ve poofed in for me.  No surprise that you forgot to give me underwear, so I guess it’ll just be me, naked, and you, all tied up.”

“You’re a cruel woman Sarah Williams,” Jareth replied, and Sarah was pleased to hear the strain in his voice.  

“I play the hand I’m dealt Goblin King,” she said with a careful smile.  “Maybe I just play a little better than you?”

“There is one thing you’ve forgotten,” Jareth said.  “I know a bluff when see one.”

“Who says I’m bluffing?” She challenged.

“Oh?” He said, arching a singular brow.  “Well then I’ll call.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond before closing that final inch of space between them and kissed her.  Sarah had suspected he might go in for the kiss after her little game but she was ready for him this time.  He wasn’t getting the upper hand in this kiss. No, he was playing her game now. 

He might kiss her like she was the only light in the room, but she kissed him back like the monster she knew.  She kissed him thoroughly and deeply. A kiss that was was angry, hot, and unyielding. A kiss that, in any other situation, wouldn’t stay just a kiss.  A kiss that she’d practiced on men whose names she could no longer remember, and the kind of kiss she’d been working up to give him. So if Jareth was going to try and drown her in his kisses, she was pulling him down with her.  

Jareth hadn’t been ready for any of that and Sarah knew it.  She smiled gleefully when he pushed her back from him, out of breath, and flushed.  He looked like he’d just run a labyrinth and Sarah was pleased. 

“Now who’s bluffing?” She said, and did not bother to hide her own reaction to his kiss.  It didn’t matter anyways. She’d won this round.

“This is not…” he trailed off, running his hand through his hair.  “Yes, alright Sarah, you win again.”

“Well you don’t have to be a sore loser about it,” she said shaking her head.  “You got what you wanted just as much as I did.”

“I never get what I want,” he muttered, low enough that Sarah barely heard him.

“What do you mean,” she pressed him.

“It’s of no concern,” he said, coming back into himself.  Sarah watched as he nervously tightened his hands into fists. 

“No,” she said taking his hand in hers.  Unclenching his fist. “Not that easy, what do you mean?”

“If I wanted to take you here on the floor of this ballroom -“  he trailed off.

“But that’s not what you want?  Christ Jareth, I thought that’s all you wanted.”

“Once yes,” he conceded.  

“But now?” She said with interest.  Maybe she’d misread it, maybe it was just a fun game for Jareth to push her out of her comfort zone like that.  

“Now it is not enough,” he said.  “I think I’ve made that perfectly clear.”

She let out a breath.  She understood exactly what he was talking about.  “Yes, I know. But Jareth really, you don’t get to tease, and flirt, and kiss, and then get mad when I do the same thing back.”

“It’s different.  I’m…” he trailed off, struggling to finish his sentence.  

“Playing the long game?” She said crossing her arms.  “Yeah I’m aware. When you do it you see it as chipping away my resolve.  Getting you closer and closer to the point where I just give up or give in, as opposed to when I do it to - what?  Fuck with you? God, you’re such a ding dong sometimes. Let me make one thing clear, when you talk about wanting me to want you - that ship sailed some ten years and two poofy dresses ago.  But I haven’t really done much about it, I mostly have been letting you steer this ship. Yeah I kissed you first, but I’ve never been able to kiss you just because I wanted to. You’re always kissing me.  You have to let me initiate, you have to let me in the game.”

“Well…do you want to kiss me now?” he asked slyly, and Sarah threw up her hands in response.

“Honestly Jareth, I spend about 80% of the time I’m with you just trying not to kiss you.  Trying not to do a lot of things to you. I’m completely stupid for you and I’m living like a goddamn nun as a result.”

“Why?” He said, confused.  “You know that’s not necessary.”

“Well no actually I think it might be.  We’re not…there yet and you just said that it’s not what you want,” she said, awkwardly.  

“Kiss me like that again and I might just forget,” he said, leaning back in to kiss her and Sarah threw up her hand to block his lips, instead giving him a fateful of palm.

“If I kiss you like that again we both might forget but quiet, I think I hear something,” she said.  

She and Jareth stopped, straining their ears to hear the faint rumble and occasional scattered bird noises.  

“What the hell?” She said turning to Jareth, who looked like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights.  

“Oh bogdammit,” he hissed.  “We have to leave, immediately.”

He grabbed her by the wrist and began to pull her before she stopped him.  

“Wait!”  She pointed upwards to her still playing, and still floating iPod.  “Gimme my iPod Jareth.”

He waved his hand and the iPod fell, it was sheer luck she managed to catch it.  “Now come on!” He shouted, running towards the door across the room. 

Sarah lifted her skirts and ran quickly after him.  He slammed the door shut behind her and leaned against it panting.  Sarah was startled to see him so freaked out. “Christ Jareth, what’s got you all twisted?”

He smirked, gesturing to the eye sized hole in the door.  “See for yourself,  _ be my guest _ .”

Sarah looked at him with confusion and peered through the hole in the door to see what had become of the previously immaculate ballroom.  She said previously because currently there was a massive food fight happening in there with about…god there had to be more than a hundred goblins and probably thirty odd chickens.  Sarah was pretty sure that she saw Hoggle and she was pretty sure she heard him yell “I’m taking ye all down with me!” But it was hard to know what with all the hunks of raw meat and - dammit some of those potatoes were on  _ fire _ , flying through the air.  

“Why…is this happening,” was all she managed looking helplessly back at Jareth.

“I told you I don’t give gobins unrestricted access to food for a reason.  Someone left the pantry unlocked, this always happens whenever someone leaves the pantry unlocked.  I’m going to enjoy lowering that someone inch by inch into the bog for this,” he growled. 

“Can’t you stop it?” she gestured back at the chaos.  

“I’d ruin my suit,” he grumbled.  “I spent hours on it.”

“Oh for,” she rolled her eyes, daring to open the door wide enough to poke her head outside.  “Hey!” She cried out to the horde. A flaming goblin soared through the air, narrowly missing her head, before she thought maybe Jareth had a point, and ducked her head back in.  

“They’ll run out of things to throw in about an hour love,” he said leaning against the wall.  “In the meantime shall we continue?”

Sarah stopped and looked around where they were for the first time.  It was inexplicably, a second ballroom. Much smaller and less grand.  Just a lot of glittering stone and family portraits. A large fireplace was in the centre, and instead of crystals there were sconces with candles lining the walls.  

“This is the private family ballroom,” he said, answering her unasked question. 

“You have a private family ballroom?” she said teasingly.  “That’s bourgeoise as hell.”

“I … am bourgeoise?”  He said confused. “I’m the king.”

“Whatever,” she laughed, walking into the centre of the ballroom.  “Can we just dance like regular people now?”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” he said, walking towards her.  

“Like this,” she said giving a small silly spin.  She started swaying her hips back and forth. She threw on an old dance track and tucked the iPod into the front of her dress.  “Gimme your hands,” she said extending her hands out towards Jareth. 

“What are we doing?” He said taking her hands.  

“We’re dancing the way I know how,” she said, giving a little skip to the left.  She let him twirl her and spin her back into his arms. “See,” she smiled at him.  “Fun.”

“Yes,” he smiled, giving her a quick peck on the cheek.  He spun her back out before she could object. “I can dance like this.”

The track changed to something a little bit slower and a little bit sultrier.  A song she knew very well. The familiar voice echoed quietly around them and Jareth pulled her back in closer.  She threw her arms around his neck as they swayed back and forth, his hands on her hips, her head resting in the crook of his neck.  

“I like this,” he said quietly.  “Lend me this record.”

“Anytime,” she smiled.  

He started to spin her out again, and this time when he spun her back in he gave her an unexpected dip.  She gasped, not expecting the drop, but his hand on her back didn’t falter and he bent down and booped her gently on the nose.  

“I’ve got you,” he smirked, pulling her back up towards him.  “I did train for over fifty years you know.”

“How could I forget,” she laughed.  “Do it again, it was fun.”

“You’re getting much better,” he said, giving her another spin.  “Will Cinderella be ready to dance at the ball yet?”

“That seems unlikely,” she laughed again.  “But there’s a chance I might actually enjoy myself.  Miracle of miracles.”

“I think the miracle is for the first time at one of these events I might as well.” He grinned, dipping her again.  

“I don’t hear the goblins,” she said.  

“I don’t care,” he leaned down, kissing her.  His hand held her steady as he took his time, pulling her slowly back up.  

Sarah didn’t mind when they kept on dancing.  

  
  



End file.
